


A Hollowed Pantheon

by kyrinasha



Category: Original Work
Genre: Archive warnings don't apply just yet, Entirely unedited because thats just NaNo babey, Fantasy, Fantasy Pantheons, God-Based Magic, Is this just my 2020 NaNo?, It's just self indulgent OC stuff and thats okay, Magic, Oddly Elaborate Magic Systems, Yes it Is, but oh they will, its not actually nano anymore but I am Determined, probably not going to be finished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27363274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrinasha/pseuds/kyrinasha
Summary: Mara and her friends go on an adventure and kill* god***The killing is technically optional, but we all have to cope somehow**More of a fragment of a true god, but it's probably close enough to count, right?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. Research and Revelations

“If I actually have to channel three aspects at once for this, I’m going to commit deicide, actually. This is ridiculous!”

Mara groaned, pushing herself back from the desk stacked high with all sorts of study materials, books borrowed and notebooks filled with scribbles interspaced with the component pieces she was trying to use for this ritual. The problem was that _apparently_ no one had bothered to find a more efficient method than just brute forcing the components together and praying that it worked. Theoretically calling on three aspects at once was possible, of course, but by the Five it was a pain to do.

So Mara wasn’t going to! At least not if she could help it. Unfortunately, with each book she flipped through and every mini test she did, the idea that her time would have been better spent just organizing the stupid ritual to pull power from three whole gods grew in the back of her mind. But damn it all if she was going to give up now. Mara pulled her chair back in and reached for another book.

…Before promptly slamming her head into the table instead. Actually, fuck this! Mara slammed her notebook shut, waving her hand over the candles to snuff them with a gust of Air. She needed a breather. No work was getting done like this, and she could feel the frustration burning a hole in her stomach. So instead of figuring out a new method for breathing fire from personal experience, she stood and took a breath. And another. And another, timing them out like Luc taught her. And when the breathing exercises made her focus too much on the thrum of magic under her skin, she scooped her notebook into her bag, flung that over her shoulder, and started walking. To where? Good question.

She’d figure it out later.

Too stuck in her own head to really focus on where she was going, Mara flicked her fingers against nothing but the air in an attempt to burn off some of the energy that buzzed beneath her skin. By the time she had calmed down enough to actually focus, she found that she had wandered all the way out of the library entirely and was now standing in the courtyard just outside the massive building. Other Acolytes moved past her, too busy with their own work to pay her any mind, which was fine by her. Forcibly stilling her hands, Mara looked around the courtyard with a discerning eye. There should be… one somewhere… right… around… 

There!

An open bench next to a carefully manicured trellis of aurablooms sat there, undisturbed by any wayward students, but not for long! Mara practically ran over to it, curling into the well-worn wooden slats like one sinks into the comfort of warm sheets. The aurablooms were in full, well, _bloom _, and they practically _radiated_ Arcana. It was warm and safe there, under flowers that glowed with the very foundation of the world’s magic. It felt like home, soothing the magic under her skin with that cool familiarity. She always felt better when the aurablooms were in season, which, luckily, they almost always were.__

____

____

Winter sucked. Winter sucked a whole lot.

But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Such was the fate of Mara’s peace, oh so rudely interrupted by someone leaning over her face, blocking the noon-high sun. “Didn’t you say you were working on your part of the ritual?”

Mara groaned, pushing her hand directly into Luc’s stupid face. He only laughed in response, so she pushed harder. “Yeah, I _was_. Turns out your idea needed _three_ aspects at once.”

“Huh? I ran through it, and breaking the enchantment into the steps I mentioned should have fixed that. What’s giving you trouble?” Mara pulled in her legs, giving Luc room to sit on the bench as she leaned back.

“The actual imbuing process.” She waved her hand in the air, trying to find the right words. “I mean, it’s a tracker right? Yeah, your notes would work, but you’d have a pretty terrible tracker.”

“Oh? Care to elaborate?” For almost anyone else, Mara would have taken that tone as a challenge. That they were right and she was wrong, that she shouldn’t question their methods. But she knew Luc better than that, and she could hear the genuine curiosity beneath the words. Oh, he definitely still thought he was right, but he really did want to hear her out, here.

“Okay so, like I said, the problem is from the imbuing step. What you’re trying to do would combine Air and Light to make a constant effect to measure and track strong sources of Arcana.” Luc nodded, both in agreement and as an indication for her to continue. “And that a tried and true method to make a tracker. I mean, I’m pretty sure I found some of the spells you used as the backbone for this one when I was doing my own research. They’re plenty sound.”

“So what’s the problem, then?”

“The _problem_ is that all of those were things. Or… kinds of things, even. You anchor the enchantment’s focus to a certain object, or kind of object, in the earlier stages of your spell, then you don’t need something else to anchor the magic. Because it’s mundane. Doesn’t need it. But-” Mara was sitting straight up at this point, her gestures coming to an abrupt stop as she met Luc’s eyes. Whoops. “But all of that’s static.”

“Static. But the location of even a mundane object isn’t static, either. What’s different with making it bigger?”

“Everything!” No, stop. That doesn’t explain, Mara. “It’s in the anchoring. You can anchor it to whatever you want. But that’s… it’s not going to respond the same way to something as complicated as a whole magical aspect. _Especially_ one as slippery as Arcana. If you anchored it and didn’t channel Arcana along with Air and Light, you’d get a tracker than can… that can track that one form of Arcana. You can’t anchor something that’s as much a concept as it is a physical _thing_. But, if you anchored it earlier, then wove Arcana into the infusion, it’d work pretty much exactly like I know you want it to work.”

“So when you say my steps would work, it’d just be worse…” Luc trailed off, clearly thinking through what she had told him.

“I mean it’d work perfectly for tracking Arcana in whatever form you used to anchor it. But anything else? Nothing.”

“Well shit,” Luc said, laughing as he did. “Good thing you caught that, huh?”

“Considering this is supposed to be the project that makes you a proper Mage? Yeah, I’d think so.”

He grimaced. “Don’t make me think about that. There’s a reason I asked for you three to be my ‘chosen Apprentices’ for this project,” he said, the eye roll he gave as the Official Phrasing passed his lips was palpable. “I may be graduating, but that doesn’t mean I’m above anyone else. Especially not you guys.”

“Oh sure, mister almost-Mage. You’re always gonna have us, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be proud that you’re graduating ahead of the rest of us.”

“Mara.” Oh no. The dad voice. “I’m a year older than you and Nik anyway.”

“Oh sure,” and while her voice may be agreeing, the smile that spread across Mara’s face made it clear that wasn’t going to last long. “But Io’s in the same year as you, and you’re still half a year ahead of where she is, and you and I both know she’s no slacker.”

“Fair enough.” Luc sighed, clearly lost in thought as he leaned back against the bench.

Seems like they needed a topic change.

“How _are_ Nik and Io’s parts coming along? The alchemical introduction should be keeping Io busy at least, right?”

She could see the gratitude in his eyes as Luc nodded. “She’s definitely taken well to the challenge. We’ve been working closely on it, considering using a potion as a way to enhance the artificial effect is the second part of my thesis beside trying to track a magical source itself.”

Mara grimaced. “Still not sure that one is going to give you the results you want.”

Luc laughed, easy and warm. He may be an official Mage of the Arcanum soon, but he was still her friend, that much was clear as day. And considering they had known each other for pushing ten years now? She knew well that he’d leave the Arcanum entirely before becoming as cold and distant as most of the Mages Mara had grown up around.

“No, but there’s no harm in trying, right? Besides, no one’s successfully tracked a source before, either. Just because some old wizard never bothered doesn’t mean it’s impossible. And come on, the impossible is what I have you guys for, right? I doubt anyone else would have been able to pick out that problem with my enchantment steps.”

“Oh please, if you had Nik on this one, he’d have been able to sniff it out far earlier. It took me _days_ of trying to figure out if my figures were just messed up before I tracked down the problem in your assumptions. Shit, actually yeah. I should have just asked him when I ran into trouble.”

“Probably.” Luc shrugged, “but the problem solving’s good for you. That’s why I put Nik on the complicated setup bit. He’s great at enchanting and figuring out the technical bits, but he’s still pretty bad at sourcing materials and figuring out what he does and doesn’t need. I swear, the amount of redundant magic that went into that cape of his, just to make it waterproof. I still swear it moves sometimes, you know.”

“He’s committed to his aesthetic, that’s for sure. A raven feather cloak? That’s Nik in a nutshell.” Mara snorted as she spoke. Really, it felt like Nikolai would just turn into a bird some day. It didn’t help that he always acted so flighty.

“Yeah, he’s about as committed to it as you are to avoiding doing any more research.” Mara groaned loud and long at that. Aaaaaaaand there it was. She was about to say something in her defense, but Luc seemed intent on continuing. “And I bet you left the desk you were using just filled with all your research materials, right?”

“Not _all_ of them!” Mara objected, shaking her bag in his general direction. “I brought my notes with me, _and_ I put the candles out this time!”

Considering the look Luc shoots at her, the fact that she had to specify “this time” was not lost on him. Which is… not unexpected, considering the most recent “last time” was in their dorm common space. And it was Luc’s robe that was just a bit too close to the candle, and… yeah.

That didn’t stop Mara from sticking her tongue out at him as she stood, though. “Alright, I get it. Back to research, I _guess_.”

“Have you tried looking into physical manifestations of the aspects yet? I didn’t look into them because it’s storm season, and thunderstorms are plenty common enough that if we can manage to get everything together before the festival, it shouldn’t be too hard to time the ritual around an incoming storm. But if we need to channel Arcana, too…”

“Right, right, I get it. I’ll check it out if you think it’d work.”

“Better than beating your head against the wall, at least.”

This time, it was Mara’s turn to snort. “Fair enough. You making dinner tonight?”

“Of course. Have to drag Io out of her research somehow.”

“Fantastic. If you promise to make some of that fried bread, I promise to keep researching this till my arm falls off from writing so many notes.”

Dreams of that crunchy, fluffy, delicious bread with just a bit of seasoned oil filled Mara’s head, barely processing Luc’s “you’ve got a deal” as she headed back for the library. Revitalized and her mental energy replenished, Mara dropped her bag off at the desk that still held all her research supplies before heading to the upper levels of the library. While not uncommon to use in any branch of spellcrafting, primal sources of the Five’s energy were… more unruly in their application. It was a lot of magical energy packed into one space, and on top of that it was exclusively one aspect. Not useless, but a bit too specialized for common use. Hence being in the library’s upper tower.

Ascending the musty tower with all the drama that fits a scholar attempting to access ancient knowledge, Mara slammed the trap door to the attic open, waving away the dust that had gathered since some desperate Acolyte had last dared come up here. A bit less than she expected, considering she wasn’t breaking air more dust than oxygen, but still. It was easily years of accumulation. That couldn’t be good for the books.

Mara pulled herself up, shutting the trap door and taking a look at the few shelves in front of her. Even with less than a half-dozen shelves, they were still thickly stacked with as many books as would fit. Unfortunately, they were a good bit less organized than the well-maintained shelves of the first and second floors, but there was little else to do than for Mara to roll up her sleeves and get to work. And, with a scrap of fabric pressed firmly over her mouth and nose, get to work she did.

It took her the better part of an hour to sort through the different shelves for something akin to what she was looking for. There were plenty of different kinds of relics that’d act as direct channels to the Primal Sources, but… well, most of them weren’t useful. Physical locations, giant spires of elemental crystal, or, in the case of godlings, whole people. Too impractical for plenty of different reasons, but the result is the same: useless for Luc’s spellwork, at least as far as they were concerned. The Archmage wasn’t going to approve of using Arcanum funds to let a group of Acolytes travel to a Worldpillar, even if it was for Luc’s ascending test.

Well… maybe they weren’t all useless. Paging through one of the few books that specialized exclusively in Arcana-based sources, rather than a specific type, one entry, scribbled in the margins of the horrifically dense academic text, caught Mara’s eye. She leaned against the wall, sliding slowly to the floor as she read the entry out loud.

“ _Crystal fragments have been broken from the spires before. Not as good as a focus as going there, but should work in a pinch. Holds tremendous amount of Arcana source, doesn’t seem to have a bottom. Property of the Arcana itself? More testing needed. Church should have some samples somewhere._ ”

Crystal fragments? Mara frowned. That didn’t sound right. The Crystalline Spires, while extraordinarily magical, were nigh unbreakable. Considering they were a direct connection to the gods themselves, it seemed almost blasphemous to think about breaking off a chunk of one, although she supposed if anyone were to do it, it’d be the Church. The Arcanum, while technically the head of the Church, certainly liked to bend which rules applied to it compared to what actually applied to others. Still… Something didn’t sit right in her stomach about keeping a piece of concentrated godly power in a box somewhere, collecting dust.

Still. It was exactly what they needed, and it didn’t look like anything else was going to come up, no matter how long she researched…

Mara spent another three hours on research, not including the time it took her to clean up her table and make some final notes as she placed her books on the table to be reshelved. It didn’t include the time she took to painstakingly cross-compare those dusty shelves and all the notes she had taken previously, scanning through twice over just to make sure she hadn’t missed something, anything, that could act as another option.

She hadn’t.

It wasn’t even a choice, really! Luc could apply for use of whatever this crystal was with no problem. This was the exact kind of thing she had been encouraged to pursue all her life: take advantage of where magic presents itself, because it is elusive and you have a gift for capturing that which others cannot. It was one of the core tenants of the Arcanum, after all. In order to craft magic, you had to dip your hands in. Hesitation would only lead to it slipping through your fingers, no matter whether you specialized in Alchemy, Enchanting, or Artifice. You could have an affinity for Earth or Water or Light and it would still slip through your fingertips all the same if you refused to grasp it tightly.

But the gods and magic were intertwined tighter than the muscles that threatened to close her throat. The gods _were_ magic, and magic was the Five. All magic in the word, ethereal or physical, came from the gods, and keeping a fragment of Arcana made physical locked up in a box just… It didn’t sit right.

She could have closed the book. Placed it back on the shelf and forgotten it. That would have been that, and, maybe, what happened next… wouldn’t have. It was probably inevitable, really. He would have slipped up one day no matter what. But that didn’t make it any easier to bear, because Mara could have put that book back.

But she didn’t.

She slipped it into her bag, pulling it out to check it out properly once she had descended the ladder. She copied the note and all of the relevant information into her own notes with a diligence that existed only to distract her from the strange feeling in her gut. And that book sat heavy in her bag as she returned to the dorm room, the buzz of excitement for solving such a dense problem barely registering at the back of her mind. She was just… tired.

For the first time in a long time, the buzzing of magic under her skin felt alien in a way she didn’t want to dwell on. Like it had declared her a stranger in her own body, not to be trusted.

And Mara just couldn’t shake the feeling that she deserved it.


	2. Silence and Conversations

The scent of heavy, earthy spices wafted through the air as Mara opened the door to their dorm. Luc waved at her from far side of the common space, carefully tending the pot of fish curry on the stove. The atmosphere was warm and inviting as always, although she was a bit surprised to see that he was the only one here.

Her confusion must have been written plain on her face, because Luc answered before she even got the chance to ask. “Io should be back soon, she was picking up some seeds from the market. Not sure where Nik is, but-”

“But he’ll come calling as soon as his stomach starts growling,” Mara finished without thinking.

“You know it,” Luc said, smiling as he did.

It was strange, really. Their little dorm apartment had been their home for the better part of five years now, ever since Mara and Nik had both hit 18, their birthdays within a month of each other, finally old enough to move out of the communal Acolyte housing and into a four-person dorm with Io and Luc. And now… Luc was going to officially become a Mage, soon, and Io wouldn’t be far behind him. She was proud of them, but any celebrations they had felt bittersweet, and she knew the day that Luc moved out would be the day it felt like a bit of the light had been taken from their lives. All four of them got along like a house on fire, but Luc always seemed like the glue that held everything together.

And if Luc was the glue, then Io was the heart. She’s the one who originally reached out to Mara, after all. The other three had all been students, which, at least in the early years of their education, were still separated from the kids like Mara: the ones who had grown up in the Arcanum. For one reason or another, the campus (and, occasionally, the surrounding city, if they were lucky) was all they had ever known, whether that was because they had parents who were Magi, if they had been surrendered to the Church after showing magical talent, or if they were just orphans who had stuck around. Didn’t matter much, if you had the talent. And there were always people around to tell Mara that she had plenty of talent.

But talent didn’t do much when you couldn’t even focus on one thing long enough to specialize. Mara opened the door to her and Nik’s room, tossing her bag onto her bed as she undid the knot of her hair tie. Her hair was barely long enough to tie up, really, and you could tell with the way that a few strands of hair always fell in front of her face or around her ears. Still, she preferred having it pulled up, and after running her fingers through her hair a few times to relax her scalp, she once again went through the familiar gestures of tying her hair back. The familiarity was a comfort, but it did little to soothe her mind.

Once they had advanced enough in their training, Acolytes were “encouraged” to choose a specialization. You’d pick one of the three forms of spellcraft (artifice, enchanting, or alchemy) and one of the Five to be your chosen aspect. Or… one of the Physical Four, at least. Although it wasn’t technically against the rules, just like it wasn’t technically wrong to never pick a specialization at all, no one ever picked Arcana. It was looked down upon to align yourself with the aspect of magic. More of a supporting aspect, everyone used it in some part of their spellcraft, but because it was so limited in its typical scope, anyone who chose it was seen as someone who was just trying to act as though they were better at spellcraft than they actually were. Posturing as an accomplished mage when, usually, all they could do was manipulate the flow of magical energy. No, Arcana was a lesser affinity. All the real Acolytes and Mages picked Earth or Air or Light or Water, and only pretenders picked Arcana.

Mara had thought about which affinity to tie herself to so often that she made herself sick. Affinities usually came so naturally, and it had for what spellcrafting she found herself drawn toward. Artifice and its self-made bursts of energy had always felt right when she cast. The draining, volatile method of expelling magical energy directly from yourself certainly wasn’t the more refined method, but it always felt like the right one for her. And it was supposed to be the same for which god you channeled. Nik had taken to Air as easily as breathing, and he had always enjoyed all the theory and potential of enchanting. Luc, similarly, was an enchantment specialist, although his aspect of choice was Water. Even Io, who had surprised almost everyone when she had chosen Earth as her aspect (although no one batted an eye when she chose alchemy alongside it), had shrugged when she and Mara had talked about her choice. It just felt natural to her.

None of the Four felt natural to Mara, at least not anymore so than any of the others did. She wasn’t terrible at working with any of them, they were just… nothing special.

She had a talent for magic, that much was certain.

That didn’t stop the structures around it from feeling too slippery to navigate, though. There were all these rules and expectations and tests and Mara wished so dearly that she didn’t have to deal with that anymore.

At least she was still plenty good at spellcraft.

Wait.

THE SPELL!

“ _LUC!_ ” Mara screeched, diving toward her bag and scrambling to get her notes, “I found something!”

The force at which Mara launched herself into the common space was certainly enough to rival Air Themself, but Luc didn’t even blink. “Yes?” he said, not looking up from his cooking.

“Yes!!! Come on, be excited!” And, now with Luc’s full attention, Mara explained the findings of her research. How the crystal, which was basically Arcana given a crystalline form, could act as a primal source in their ritual, allowing them to go forward with their original timing. About how he’d probably need to petition the Arcanum directly for use of such a special artifact, but it shouldn’t be too impossible to get their hands on, considering the circumstance. How it was actually looking pretty plausible that, with this new information, they could be able to do the ritual in a matter of weeks if everyone else finished their work at a reasonable pace.

She didn’t tell him about how her gut was telling her that this was a gross and itchy thing to do.

And Luc looked elated.

“Are you sure? That’s fantastic, Mara. I certainly wish we wouldn’t have to petition for such a powerful magical artifact, but I suppose it isn’t much different from any other resource for spellwork. Do you mind if I copy borrow your notes? I want to make sure that I’m getting the right thing, especially if we could be moving that quickly.”

“Oh, yeah sure, here,” Mara tossed him her notebook. “It’s the most recent stuff. Prrrrobably legible. Probably.”

“Come on, I know how to read your handwriting by now.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s legible! It just means that you can get something from incomprehensible scribbles.”

“Then being fluent in Mara is what I shall be! Also dinner’s ready, so feel free to help yourself.” And with that, Luc took a scoop of curry, ladling it into a bowl, and a piece freshly fried bread before retreating into his and Io’s room. Mara was, once again, left alone with her thoughts. Well, and curry. The curry was always good.

Or, she was. For approximately five minutes before the door opened and Io, covered in smoke and soot, burst in. In her hand was a mostly-empty potion bottle, so Mara could guess where the soot came from. Some of the alchemy Io had been working with lately had some exceptionally nasty blowback, after all.

That wasn’t going to stop her from being a bit snarky, though.

“So I see your alchemy’s going well, huh Io?”

Io rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “Oh hah hah. Very funny. They _have_ , actually. Just… you know, not this one. This one broke really badly and… yeah,” she said, gesturing to the soot and grime. “I would have headed down to the baths but there’s more people there than I’ve seen in a long time.”

“Wasn’t there an expedition? Pretty sure some of the younger Acolytes had to go harvest plants for baby’s first alchemical reduction, so they’re all sweaty and dirty from the work. It’s been a hot week, even for summer.”

“Mmm, makes sense. I’ll just head over after dark, shower then.”

Mara grimaced. “Yeah, but then the water’s _freezing_. Absolutely awful.”

“Hey, not all of us have to funnel the full power of the sun just to take a shower, you know. Besides, it being so cold is why there’s never anyone there, and I happen to like the peace and quiet more than warm water.”

“Terrible, awful, disgusting. How are we even friends?”

“Oh please, you know you love me. Is Luc here?”

Mara nodded, waving her hand vaguely in the direction of his and Io’s shared room. “I found something useful for the ritual, so he’s going over it and copying my notes. He made dinner before retreating to his lair, though. Want some?”

“I’ll get some later. Need to talk to him about the ritual planning and all that.”

“Alright, just don’t forget to eat again,” she said, but Io was already moving toward her room.

“I won’t, I won’t. And don’t project onto me with that ‘again.’ Last time I checked, I’m the one with the best track record about eating habits.”

Smirking at her victory, Io slipped into her room, and Mara, not for the first time, was left alone.

She relaxed into the warmth radiating from the dying cinders of the wood-fueled stove and the bowl of curry in her hands, ladling a spoonful into her mouth as she unwound from a long day. The flavors were as warm as the dying remnants of the fire behind her, and the silence weighed her down like a thick blanket. She’d be lying if she said she liked it, but that didn’t make it any less familiar.

People always seemed to describe silence as fragile when they were telling stories, like a single word would be all it took to ruin it forever. Mara supposed that was true, at least on a technicality. But all the silence she had ever seen had this sort of… self-perpetuating, suffocating aura around it. Like the silence wasn’t a consequence of people not talking, but like it was some force of its own, a force that took the words from people and refused to give them back. Once silence settled, it was that much harder to start talking, she felt. Then it would just keep spiraling, silence begetting more silence. Even a comfortable blanket could become suffocating when it pressed too close, after all.

In the silence, it was easy to drift. And that’s what Mara did, left to her own thoughts. Occasionally, noise came from Io and Luc’s room, but whatever they were discussing, it was never loud enough for her to make out what they were saying. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, simply unwinding, existing, in the silence that was wrapped too-close around her. Her curry was long finished and the fire had gone cold by the time the door to their dorm opened for the second time that evening.

Nik stepped into the dorm with little fanfare, simply shrugging off his cloak and pulling his braid free from the underside of said cloak and back over his shoulder. Mara cleared her throat, startling him slightly. “Mara.”

“Nikolai.”

“I thought you would be asleep by now.”

“Huh?”

He rolled his eyes nodding toward the window. Oh. It was dark. When did that happen? “When did you get back?”

Mara grimaced. “Ah… an hour before dark…”

“Have you been sitting here for hours?”

“Not like I had much else to do, you know? I was hoping to do something with Io and Luc, but they started on one of their talks, and you know how they get after those. Even if it’s a fast one, they’re still out of it for the rest of the day,” her tone was practically a vocal eye roll. But considering how often it happened, Mara figured she had a right to be at least a little annoyed.

“Don’t you have classwork that you could be doing?”

“Not really.” Mara shrugged, “still caught in a technicality, remember? I’ve passed most of the artifice tests and don’t really have any classwork left I can do for those. They want me to pick an aspect and be done with it already, and until I do, there’s not much left for me to do. Pretty sure I’m gonna give Arcanist Torren a stress migraine at this rate.”

“Torren is older than Earth itself, but if you managed that, I’m sure it would be a first. I don’t think I have ever seen him do much more than sigh in frustration.”

“Wasn’t there that one week some new Apprentices couldn’t stop setting his weird hat on fire?” Nik nodded. “Not even then?” He shook his head. “Wow. Impressive.”

“And you think your indecisiveness is pushing his buttons.”

“Yeah…” Mara sighed. “It’s not like it’s just frustrating to him! Try being the oldest Acolyte who hasn’t picked an aspect in probably forever. Pretty sure most of the Mages are taking bets on when I’ll drop out at this rate.”

“Why don’t you?”

This wasn’t the first time she and Nik had had this conversation, but the question still hit Mara like a sack of bricks. If any part of her was still muffled by her half-nap snapped to attention as an uncomfortable feeling seeped into her gut.

“You know why, Nik. It’d be easier for you. You actually have somewhere to go back to.” Mara tried to bite back the resentment in her voice, but considering that Nik was now firmly interested in the feathers of his cloak, she knew she didn’t quite manage it as well as she wanted.

That was the fun of growing up in the Arcanum: she didn’t have a home to go back to. If she left the Arcanum, she had nothing. Which was… definitely a fun thing when you were growing up in a place that it was strongly implied that you should only stay if you have the magical wherewithal to handle it. Never outright stated, since everyone has some amount of magic in them. Just implied enough to alienate the kids without much magical ability and get them to leave. Because then it was totally their choice to leave. The Church always extended a hand to getting them started, but… it’s still leaving the only home you’ve ever known.

Even if the Arcanum never really felt like a home at all.

Really, Mara had a lot of complicated feelings about the Church and the Arcanum and her childhood, but the time to confront those was not on the floor of their common room with Nik looking like he wanted to be absolutely anywhere else, Mara decided. So instead she stood, stretching as she did, and moved to grab some tinder and the flint. Curry was still good when it was cold, but it was better hot, and Nik would be hungry if he was only just getting back now.

“Mara-”

“Dinner,” she interrupted him. They weren’t having this conversation again, not this time. “You haven’t eaten, right?” When Nik didn’t say anything, she glanced over her shoulder at him. Well, she didn’t like those emotions on his face, but he was shaking his head, so that was basically an answer. “Right. Luc made curry. Just needs to be reheated, and hey. Maybe Io will actually eat some this time around.”

A deep sigh came from behind her. “Alright. I’ll eat. But you should think about my offer.”

“Mhmm,” Mara made a noise that could vaguely be interpreted as a yes, but really it was about as noncommittal a noise as she could manage without Nik getting on her for not even thinking about it.

He always spoke fondly of his family, of his village. Mara was sure that they were good folk, and she knew his offer was genuine. Just… she didn’t know those people. And she would have no way to know those people before she made that leap. And hearing about someone’s nice family is entirely different than living with that nice family and them having to put up with you.

Just because her friends put up with her didn’t mean Mara would put the same faith in strangers, even if they were strangers related to one of her closest friends.

Besides, she didn’t _want_ to leave. She loved magic and she loved spellwork and she relished the chance to solve problems like she did today. Her hands moved automatically as she kindled the spark into a steady flame, stirring the curry as she sat down in front of the stove. It… was not a good angle, considering she was barely able to reach the wooden spoon to stir it. And it seemed Nik could tell, because he came over to stir for her.

She didn’t look at him as she prodded the flames with a small stick.

And as silence settled over Mara for the second time that evening, she decided that yeah, she was right. Silence wasn’t some fragile thing.

But that didn’t mean it was impossible to break. Especially at first.

“I don’t want to leave.”

“But you don’t want to pick, either.”

“I don’t want it to be so _hard_. At this point I’m about ready to give up. Light’s not terrible, and I work well with it. Besides, it’d be useful if the four of us each represented one of the Four, right?”

“If you say so.” Deciding his curry was hot enough, Nik scooped out a bowl for himself and started to eat.

But Mara wasn’t about to let him make her think about her choices. This conversation wasn’t over yet! “Oh come on. It can’t _really_ be that revelatory. Plenty of people have probably been less than satisfied with their choices. And besides, it’s only until I can, you know, actually find a specialization. Who’s going to stop me from not sticking to it? The Archmage?”

That got a smile out of him, if a small one. “Didn’t you know? He’s the head of the magic guard. If you change your specialty in any way ever he comes to your dorm and hands you a strongly worded letter. Didn’t you read that in your copy of ‘How To Do All Magic Ever: A Caster’s Guide?’”

“Were we actually supposed to read those? I set mine on fire to keep warm in the Apprentice dorms.”

“Unfortunately yes. There is a test on it required in order to become a Mage. That’s why this ritual is taking so long. Luc is stalling for time so he can study his copy.”

“Oh, speaking of the ritual!” Topic successfully diverted, Mara’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “We might be looking at being able to conduct the ritual proper in a month. Maybe even a few weeks. Luc needs permission to use this Aracana crystal I found records of, but it solves the problem I’ve been having with the sources we plan to use.”

“Really? Does that mean…”

From there, the conversation turned to the minutiae of the ritual. Mara breathed out a sigh of relief, glad to have turned the conversation back to something they could actually discuss. The pair chatted away about the ritual, then nothing in particular. She could tell that Nikolai was avoiding the heavier topics as much as she was, but now just… wasn’t the time.

Another day, another conversation. They could talk about it then.

Just not now.


	3. Rituals and Farsight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the magic chapter lads!!!

Rain beat down against her cloak as Mara clutched the ritual materials close to her chest. All she could do was hold the soaked fabric closer as she sprinted across the Arcanum’s campus, trying to get to the ritual hall as quickly as possible. Luckily they had moved most of their materials in there previously, but there were still a couple things she and the others had been preparing up until they heard a massive storm was going to be blowing in off the southern coast later that week. It was going to be the perfect opportunity, so they had rushed the last sigils and cobbled together a couple extra alchemical concoctions in an attempt to give themselves backups. Everything was looking good, and they had thought they were ready.

And then Nikolai realized they were missing chalk. And Io commented on the lack of any sort magical focus to direct the Arcana properly.

So Mara had sprinted back to their dorm, through the wind and the rain, to gather everything as quickly as possible. The mad scramble that proceeded as she dug through every draw in their dorm, only to find the chalk sitting on top of the stable with a note reminding them to take it was not a new feeling, but that didn’t make her any less frantic in her search. Spellcrafting and school work always seemed to end like this. No matter how much she tried to stay on top of things, there was always this sprint to finish everything right at the end.

Pushing the door to the ritual hall open, Mara flunk her soaking cloak off as soon as she was past the doorway. Despite her best efforts, the winds had knocked her hood off more than once, so while the materials were dry enough for the ritual, her head still looked like a soaked dog. Lightning struck too-close as she massed the materials over to Nik, who gave her a nod. He turned to start drawing the ritual circle, and Mara let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

“That’s everything, right? We’re good?”

“Yeah, that’s everything. I promise,” Luc said, passing Io one of the potions she had prepared earlier that day. Mara could feel the magic begin to buzz in the air as Io poured the concoction into a large mortar and pestle, mixing it on site with some aurabloom buds and rainwater she must have collected while Mara was out. The thick, floral-smelling sludge crackled with energy much in the same way that the lightning outside did. The hairs on her arms stood on end as she ground the ingredients into something vaguely resembling homogeneity, before adding chalk, thickening the paste even further as she did.

This was what they were betting Luc’s Magehood on. Alchemy, traditionally, did not have any real overlap with enchanting. The closest the two schools of magic ever came to each other was an enchantment to have a potion slowly replenish itself, but even that was more of an enchantment on a bottle that just happened to impact a potion that had already been created, if not used.

But the thing was that not all schools of spellwork were so distinct from one another. Alchemy and enchanting both had plenty of overlap with artifice, especially with artificers using both to extend their own abilities or modifying their spell slinging. And, in turn, alchemy and enchanting specialists turned to artifice to augment and embower their own spellwork, albeit more on the principles of storing energy to further their own works than the brute-force style of expelling said energy that artificers were so fond of. So, on those principles, it certainly wasn’t impossible, or even uncommon, to merge various kinds of spellwork in new and interesting hybrid practices.

Luc had hypothesized that, in order to incorporate alchemy into an enchanting ritual, one would have to use it in the directional runes, precise charts drawn out to most effectively imbue an object with the desired magic. There were whole groups dedicated to working out new enchanting runes and rituals, and the math behind them always made Mara’s head swim. The more complicated the enchantment, the more complicated the runes, and the more complicated the runes, the more likely a mistake could sneak in. Mistakes rarely ruined an enchantment or caused the entire ritual to fizzle out, but they did make it much less effective, so designing an enchantment ritual walked the fine line between minimizing complexity and making sure it included everything the caster wanted.

Potions were liquid.

Liquids, typically, did not like to conform to precise patterns.

This creates a problem for using them in enchanting rituals.

Hence why they had been so infrequently explored. Luc’s idea was a pretty clever way of mixing the two, in Mara’s opinion.

Finishing her work, Io passed the mortar and pestle to Nikolai, who took it with a heft and a grunt, not quite expecting the full weight of the granite as it was placed into his hands. Dipping a thick-bristled paint brush into the paste, he began to paint the alchemy-specific ritual runes. The chalk outlines were already drawn, and Luc was busy placing and organizing the other focal aspects of the ritual. Whispered sparks of magic filled the air as he placed each one, and Mara was practically vibrating with excitement as the energy flowed through her.

Lightning crackled through the air, and the windows creaked with strain against the winds as they picked up speed. Luc stepped forward, hands raised toward the sky. Clasped in his palms was a silver locket: the target of the enchantment. Rain beat heavy on the windows as Luc raised his voice to the ether, as strong in its prayer as the thunder that surrounded them as he spoke.

“Oh gods above, hear my voice. I call upon the Five. I call upon Earth and Water to preside over this enchantment, and I call upon Air and Light and Arcana for their blessing. May your power be with us four in this moment as we channel your essence into new shape and become closer to you through the euphoria of creation.”

Euphoria of creation was right. As Luc placed the locket on the ground and everyone stepped into their corner of the sigils, Mara could already feel the pure joy that was the magical ether that flowed through the world starting to align. She raised her hand, palm out, pointed toward the amulet. Channeling her own magical pool, the intrinsic power that she and all people had, the gauntlet Mara used as a focus sparked to life. Peeking out of one eye, she could see Io, Nik, and Luc all doing the same thing. Different foci, different frequencies of energy, but still the same core idea. They had to feed the ritual, give it that small spark that would set off the cascade. Every complicated reaction needs some sort of catalyst, after all.

Luc’s power, as the core caster of the ritual, was the easiest for Mara to feel. His magic always felt so controlled, directed with a purpose behind every mote of magical energy he used. Still, the control made up for the fact that he didn’t have as much to direct. His wand, or, specifically, the gem set into the base, held much of the power that Mara could feel him pushing into the ritual. Still, Luc’s magic, warm like the summer sun’s rays, swept up the stored energy and brought it into his own magical signature flawlessly. When Luc used magic, it was distinct not because he forced the magic around him to march to his personal rhythm, but because his rhythm was so base, so deeply powerful, that the world around him couldn’t help but shift to follow it.

Io’s magic was just as orderly, but in an entirely different way than Luc’s. Rather than being one extended steady thrum, Io’s power came in large chunks. She had long since figured that she was no good at creating a steady flow of magic. That simply wasn’t her style. Rather, her magic came in bursts of raw energy, its structure immaculate like the geometric design of the earth below her feet. Impossible to fight against if you approached it head on, but easy to break if you knew the angle to approach it at. And that’s exactly what she was doing now, shaving off hunks of her essence to feed the ritual, her head bobbing in time with the rain that beat against the windows. Her focus, a ceremonial knife, was admittedly a bit more metaphorical, but it helped her concentrate on what she was doing, and it made sure she could control the amount of magic she cut from her power. Digging in her heels, pressure crashed down on Mara as Io fed the ritual with another mass of magical power.

If Io’s magic was one with no flow, Nikolai’s was the exact opposite. Lightning was certainly not the only reason the scent of ozone had filled the room. Nik’s magic flowed freely, wispy and entirely inconsistent in anything except its flow. Once he started casting, unless there was something stopping him, Nik’s magic would continue to flow until he had drained his entire pool of magic. Even with his focus, an amulet he currently held solidly in both hands, even knowing how his magic behaved, it could still so easily get away from him. And even when he was in control? Even then Mara was never quite sure when his magic stopped and the magic that surrounded him began. And, sometimes, it felt like he was drawing on more magic than he should be able to.

Still, magic-based conspiracy theories aside, all of her friends were powerful magic users. They each had their own style, but they meshed together to create a harmony that made Mara’s soul sing.

Her own magic was… not quite as defined, at least not in the same way. It shifted, changed, in ways that she couldn’t always put into words. It was like her magic was reflected off the magic around her, taking shape with it rather than forcing the magic around her to conform to her form of magic in order for her to use it. But even that was a shape of magic all its own.

Back when she was younger, before she really got a sense of how magic flowed through people, she had been self-conscious about it. How her magic felt different than the magic that others used. But… no one ever mentioned it. Even as she became more attuned to it, not one person ever called her out on the fact that her magic felt fundamentally different than the other magic users.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Mara’s mind returned to the present. The pulsing, twisting energy that filled the air grew stronger still, making the air thick with magic in potentia. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked and rain beat down on the windows and the stone of the building louder than she’d ever heard it. She looked up at Luc, who was peeking at her through one opened eye, an unspoken question in his glance.

Mara gave her answer. A single nod. They were ready.

Most of a ritual was wordless. It was a spellcrafter’s intent that shaped the magic around them, and a culture of a sort of wordless reverence for the power of the gods made manifest. Because what do you say when you channel the very foundations of the world? What words could possibly compare to the action of shaping that power to your will.

Luc crouched down, drawing one final rune on the ground in front of him. The rune of activation, and, all at once, the magic that filled the air crashed down on the four of them, rushing through the sigils and runes that served to point it in the right direction. But the sheer amount of force, the pulsing of the pink Arcana shard, something… something was-

_Mara stood in an endless plane of existence that held no physical form. It stretched beyond what she could see, beyond what she could comprehend, threatening to engulf her in her entirety if she lost focus even for a second. This was a place of pure magic, of possibility, but no reality._

_And she wasn’t alone._

_Starkly real against the infinite nothingness, a lone figure stood in front of her, its head slightly tilted._

_It… wasn’t human. Couldn’t be human. It was similar, human enough at a glance, but the more she looked at the entity in front of her, the less human it seemed. The eyes were slightly too large, the limbs didn’t bend quite right, and the hair looked almost like a drawing. And it was staring right at her. The being’s eyes pierced through her and everything that she was, her soul laid bare against the seemingly endless plane of magic that surrounded the two of them._

_But something was wrong. As it stared, Mara stared right back, and just as it read her like an open book, she could just barely make out the same words of its soul. Not clearly, and not without a great effort, but she was never one to let magic slip through her fingers. And this being? It was magic. The closer she looked the more she saw it. The way that this plane connected to her, through some basal part of her soul, was limited. It was a deep and personal connection, but even that was nothing compared to how this being, this person, in front of her had its very being pulse in time with the flow of magic that permeated everything around them. She’d call it a god if it wasn’t so… fragile._

_Its eyes weren’t as bright as instinct told her they should shine. It barely moved, and she couldn’t tell if that was because there was no point in moving, or if it simply_ couldn’t _. And with each pulse of magic her body let loose ( ~~wasn’t there something she was doing?~~ ), it echoed hollowly through the being. But even as she reached out toward it, her words caught in her throat. There was no way to talk, not here, and even if she could, what would she say?_

_How do you comfort something that never should have been hurt in the first place?_

_How do you offer solace to earth? Would the waves accept your tears?_

_Mara hoped so. The tears fell freely, now. It would be nice to know that they meant something to someone out there._

All at once, Mara felt herself return, but… she had never gone anywhere. Tears pooled in her eyes that she didn’t understand, and she quickly blinked them away, chastising herself for losing focus on a ritual this important. Magic bubbled against her skin, burning to be unleashed. She took a deep breath and pushed her feelings down, concentrating on the ritual as Luc spoke words she couldn’t hear and the runes began to dim in their brightness, draining the magic into the vessel, just as it was supposed to. Mara sagged as the final drips of energy were bled out of the runes and into the locket, lightning filling the room with one final burst of light as Luc carefully picked the locket up off the ground. As his fingers touched the metal, it was like an unseen thread was cut. Satisfaction and exhaustion buzzed deep within Mara’s bones in equal measure, the sort of feeling that only happens after a long, successful day of work.

Chatter immediately started up between Luc and Io, with Nik throwing in the occasional comment, but Mara could barely hear it. Her throat was dry and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It wasn’t the locket, she could tell the ritual went exactly as planned. But still, the unease nagged at her. Her nerves were fried, and she tried to shake it off as a side effect of post-ritual exhaustion.

Not that she bought it.

Mara took a deep breath and sank into the windowsill, the closest thing to a seat available since they had to clear space. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to sleep for a week straight. And it was easier to focus on the ache of expending too much magic all at once that she was so familiar with than the strange, unknown dread that she just couldn’t shake.

It wasn’t even just the dread that had her so worked up. The gnawing anxiety, the sorrow that threatened to claw its way back up her throat and flow down her face in hot tears, and the fear of something she didn’t, couldn’t, understand? Those were all emotions. She could deal with emotions, and she knew how to, at the very least, quash them down and figure out how to feel them later. The strangeness of it all didn’t override the fact that they were still her feelings, as inexplicable as they were.

No, the worst part of it was that, no matter how much she tried to distract herself, Mara couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.


End file.
